Thanks, Jess
by Angie J Trifid
Summary: Completely true story dedicated to my new best friend of all time and forever, Jessie the Yodelling Cowgirl.


**A/N: Howdy! I don't own **_**Toy Story**_** *sniff*.**

**But that's not the only thing I'm crying about today. This just happened to me, and it's a true story, from my POV.**

**Thanks, Jess**

I tried not to sound too interested. I spoke to my mum about it like a question. I had the booklet in my hand, open on the page.

It arrived in the mail this morning. The booklet of college courses I could apply for. I flicked through it then; didn't look properly.

I looked again later. My friends call me Jessie, like Jessie the Yodelling Cowgirl, so I suppose it's no surprise that the first one I looked at was Animal Care. It seemed good to me. I've been thinking about trying to work at PIXAR when I'm older, so I also looked at the one with computers and EMedia. Then I saw it: the one I wanted to do: Art and Design.

Only one problem – it's only at the Malvern College. _Malvern_. And I live in _Evesham_. So, I went to ask my mum.

She told me I couldn't though, because I don't have a way to get there.

I went upstairs to watch _Beverly Hillbillies_ on my laptop. I decided to start watching it after I found out Jessie was based off Elly-May – emotionally, anyway. But I could only hold it in for so long, though.

My dad came upstairs because he needed to use my laptop – the big computer downstairs won't rip his CD's. So while he sorted that, I picked up my plastic cowboy revolver and shot everything. Well, everything but my Jessie stuff.

I swear my friends should call me Emily, instead…

But the songs had to be transferred onto the big computer downstairs one at a time, because his data stick doesn't have enough memory on it. Dad went to put the songs on the computer and I sat there, sulking and shooting stuff again – but missing my Jessie stuff, of course.

When dad went downstairs again, I couldn't control myself any longer. I lay down on my bed and curled up, hugging my Jessie doll – who is entirely plastic, unlike in the movie – and the car-window-cushion with a picture of Jessie on it. Last time I did that, I didn't have my Jessie doll (I only got her on Saturday), and I was curled up under a coffee table, because my mum said I'd never be able to become an astronaut.

When dad came back in, I got up and put the first ten songs from the next CD (there wasn't enough memory for the whole thing) on the data stick).

Then I threw myself back onto the bed and lay down, hugging the doll and the car-window-cushion.

I spoke to one of my friends on MSN about it but she was no help. Neither was dad, when he asked me why I was shooting stuff.

But lying there with Jessie and… er, Jessie – that was a real big help. I thought of that part in the song: _"And when she was sad, I was there to dry her tears"_. And she was, too. Seriously, when dad came back up, I only went back over to my laptop because I don't trust him with it. And there are still two massive wet patches on my pillow from where I've been crying; and there's still tears running down my cheeks.

As soon as dad was gone, I started writing this. When I brought my Jessie doll home, my mum said "Oh my God" in a very annoyed tone and I started to think buying Jessie had been a bad idea. But now, I'm really glad I did.

Jessie and Jessie are sitting on my desk now. I've turned the doll's head and propped up the car window cushion, both to face my laptop screen.

A couple of days after I got her, I thought I'd felt plastic against my arm when my arm was a couple of inches away from my Jessie doll's nose. There was no way I'd touched her, but I know I felt plastic on my arm.

So I guess I'm hoping toys really _are_ alive while I sit here and let Jessie and Jessie read what I'm writing, because I can only put stuff into words properly when I write them.

And there's a message of this, going out to my new best friend forever, a friend who sits on my desk every night and watches me to make sure I'm okay; a friend whose face turned (not by me) toward me while I hugged her and cried; a friend who I promise I'll always love and never forget:

Thanks, Jess.

**A/N: This is 100% true, and exactly as it happened, I swear to Dios.**

**Oh no, I'm going Espa****ñ****ol again…**


End file.
